


love, frankenstein

by meggitymeg



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Everybody Lives, M/M, Poetry, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggitymeg/pseuds/meggitymeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Candygrams. The mere word was enough to strike fear into the hearts of most of the Beacon Hills High School student population, and Derek Hale was no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love, frankenstein

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xosarahdevon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xosarahdevon/gifts).



> Just a bit of Valentine's Day fluff written for my awesome little sister, [xosarahdevon](http://xosarahdevon.tumblr.com). Love you, Shisk!
> 
> (Originally published 15.2.14 - edited to include additional endnote)

_Candygrams_.

The mere word was enough to strike fear into the hearts of most of the Beacon Hills High School student population, and Derek Hale was no exception.

As if being surrounded day-in, day-out by hundreds of teenagers, all stinking of lust and arousal and jealousy and misery, being forced to bear witness to their constantly-fluctuating ‘romances’ – Derek couldn’t help it, if anything deserved mental air quotes it was the idea that any of his peers knew the first thing about romance – wasn’t bad enough, every February the entire school was forced to suffer the indignity of Candygrams.

It wouldn’t be so bad, he figured, if Valentine’s Day still worked like it had in elementary school. Back then, everyone decorated a shoebox during art class, lined them up on the windowsill in homeroom, and waited impatiently to see whose mom had splurged on full-sized candy bars for everyone in the class – because, of course, everyone got a valentine from each of their classmates, because Valentine’s Day when you’re eight is fair and just, and yeah, okay, maybe you made a special extra card for one or two people, but nobody’s feelings got hurt, and nobody wound up embarrassed and empty-handed, because the teachers always made sure to keep spare Batman and Care Bear cards in their desk drawers in case of emergencies.  Derek never had to ask to use those cards, because his mom always took him and his sisters to Target to pick out their own valentines to give out, along with bags of snack-sized candy that Derek meticulously taped to the back of each card after carefully writing ‘Derek H.’ in the ‘from:’ blank, but he knew some kids weren’t as lucky, like his friend Isaac, so he was glad that the grown-ups were looking out for other kids, and always made sure to include a valentine for his teacher, too.

Somewhere along the way, giving Valentines to your entire class had fallen out of fashion – Derek blames middle school for that, along with the increasingly foul scents that began to accompany the process of changing clothes after gym class – and the teachers had stopped giving a crap about the potentially psychologically scarring effect of Valentine’s Day on their students, because Derek was now eighteen and barely forcing back a cringe as the door to his AP English class banged open and a gangly kid dressed up like an adult baby (Derek thought he might be a sophomore, Greenfield or Greenhorn or something, and guessed he was actually supposed to be Cupid) trudged in, followed by Coach Finstock carrying a megaphone in one hand and a notepad in the other.

Derek slid lower in his seat, wishing very hard that he could just disappear.  _Fucking Candygrams._

‘All right, listen up, guys and gals!’  A burst of static noise accompanied Finstock’s bellow. Derek felt his incisors lengthen every so slightly, and clenched his fists under his desk.  If looks could kill…well.  

Finstock continued, undeterred. ‘For some reason, the administration at this school thinks we live in a goddamn 80s movie and despite my annual protests I have once again been blackmailed into running the Candygram fundraiser. You know the rules; if someone liked you enough last week to fork over five bucks during their lunch period to sign up on my list, then you’ve got a box of over-priced Valentine candy with your name on it in that sack of Greenberg’s.’ He gestured at the adult baby, who looked miserable. ‘If not, well, then, better luck next year. Wait, what am I saying? If I have to do the Candygrams again next year I’m gonna –‘

‘Excuse me, Coach Finstock?’ Lydia Martin’s voice rang out from her seat next to the window. ‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ – that was a lie, Derek didn’t have to listen for the skip in her heartbeat to know that fact – ‘but we were in the middle of a fascinating discussion on Voltaire’s _Candide_ so if you could hurry up and finish, please….’ Though her voice trailed off questioningly, it was clear to Derek and everyone else in the room, Finstock included, that she was giving an order, not making a request.

The coach held his hands up, nodding and moving closer to Greenberg. ‘Right, okay, here we go. The ever-so-lovely and not-at-all-rude Miss Martin cleans up again this year with a whopping twenty-seven Candygrams,’ he announced, and Adult Baby emptied most of the contents of his sack onto Lydia’s desk. The pair made quick work of the rest of the deliveries, moving around the room from desk to desk.

‘Whittemore, here’s three with your name on them.’ Jackson preened at the attention, but his expression turned stormy at Finstock’s next words.  ‘Mahealani, you’ve got five, pretty sure that’s more than anyone on the team.’  Danny accepted the pile of cards – and the scowl Jackson sent his way – with a nod and a serene smile.

‘Argent…McCall….Reyes...Lahey…Boyd…’ The bag was nearly empty, and Derek began to let out the breath he’d been holding, figuring now that Laura had graduated from BHHS – though sadly not from finding excuses to torture and embarrass her little brother – he’d managed to escape being singled out for once.

He’d let his guard down too soon, apparently.

‘And four for you, Derek Hale. You go, Derek Hale!’

Derek’s head jerked up in surprise. Momentarily stunned, he watched Adult Baby transfer the last Candygrams from his sack to the desk in front of him. Job complete, Finstock barked one last time – ‘and none for you, Biliniski!’ – then headed for the door.  Derek experienced a fleeting moment of surprise at that – Stilinski was seriously attractive, if you were into long, lanky, mole-speckled jocks with hair that stuck out in all directions, which Derek was beginning to suspect he was – but the slam of the classroom door and the ensuing buzz of conversation spreading throughout the room as Derek’s classmates began to rip open their cards and candy neatly distracted him from that thought.

Derek glanced at the clock, then at the teacher. Rolling her eyes, she raised her voice over the din, dismissing the class. Derek sighed, avoiding the small pile of cards as he leaned over to shove his copy of _Candide_ and his notebook into his backpack. When he straightened back up, Erica was sitting backwards in the chair in front of him, her bright red lips stretched into a wide grin.

‘Aren’t you going to open your cards, Der?’

‘It’s Der-EK, as well you know, having been my best friend for the past twelve years.’

‘Fine, Der-EK. Aren’t you going to see who wants inside your pants this year?’ Erica winked exaggeratedly, snapping her gum.

Derek rolled his eyes. ‘They’re probably all from Laura. I wouldn’t put it past her to bribe some freshman to do her bidding, even if she doesn’t actually go here anymore.’

Erica shook her head. ‘I know at least three of them don’t have anything to do with Laura.’

Derek narrowed his eyes at her, suddenly suspicious. ‘And just how do you know that?’

Erica squeaked as a large hand landed on her shoulder. ‘She knows that because she sent one of them, and harangued Isaac and me into sending two of the others,’ Boyd offered, his expression slightly guarded.

‘Harangued is such a strong word, Boyd, don’t you think?  I just overheard your grandma talking to your little sister about Valentine’s Day being just as much about showing your love for you friends as it is about being romantic, that’s all. I can’t help it if your grandma is the wisest woman I know.’

‘And that had nothing to do with wanting to make Isaac happy, then?’ Boyd countered, gazing over Derek’s head to the back of the classroom. Standing up, Derek turned around and found Isaac still sitting at his desk, munching on conversation hearts as he carefully slid his thumbnail under the flap of each envelope. He felt the edges of his mouth quirk up into a smile. Turning round, he bumped shoulders with Erica.

‘Erica, that was really sweet of you. I’m sorry I’m such a grump. I’m just tired of getting my hopes up over a stupid Candygram only to have it be from my sister. I thought I’d be able to skip out on the whole thing this year,’ Derek admitted.

Erica grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘S’okay, I forgive you.’  She grabbed the pile of cards on Derek’s desk, turning to pick up her bag and waving at Isaac and Boyd.  ‘Let’s get some lunch – I’m starving!’

Derek laughed and followed her out of the room.  As he passed through the doorway, a thought occurred to him. ‘Wait, if you sent me one, and Boyd and Isaac did too, then who is the other one from?’

Erica stopped short. ‘Change of plans,’ she shouted over her shoulder. ‘Library, corner table, NOW.’

The three boys trailed after her, Boyd complaining mildly about missing lunch, Isaac shyly offering to share his conversation hearts. 

* * *

‘That’s it?  Just a poem?  No signature?’ Boyd asked, looking thoughtful.

Erica shook her head, glancing back down at the opened card in her hands, a slight furrow to her brow.

‘Read it again?’ Isaac, this time. 

‘Okay,’ she agreed, and cleared her throat.

_‘It's Valentine's Day_  
 _And in the street_  
 _There's freezing rain, and slush, and sleet._

_The wind is fierce_  
 _The skies are gray_  
 _I don't think I'll go out today._

_But here inside_  
 _The weather's warm_  
 _There is no trace of wind or storm._

_And you can make_  
 _My morning shine_  
 _Say you’ll be my Valentine…?’_

Erica set the card back down on the table in front of her. ‘The poem sounds really familiar, but I don’t know why. Like I’ve heard it before, but a long time ago, and I have no idea where.’  She looked at Derek. ‘I honestly don’t think this is Laura, it’s not her style. Whomever sent this, I think might actually be trying to ask you out.’

Derek racked his brain trying to think of who other than his three friends might have been willing to pay perfectly good money to send him a Candygram – never mind one that sounded like the sender was actually into him – but try as he might, he couldn’t come up with any suspects.

It wasn’t that he was a total social reject, or anything; he just…wasn’t on anyone’s radar, other than ‘that guy with the glasses who reads a bunch of classic literature and goes camping with his family a lot’.  Even though they’d all lived in Beacon Hills for their entire lives, Erica and Isaac were far more well-known than Derek, mostly due to the juxtaposition of Isaac’s angelic curls and Erica’s devilish grin; they turned a lot of heads in the halls but Isaac was painfully shy and Erica made it very clear to anyone who dared ask that she only had eyes for Boyd. 

Derek supposed that, of their group of four, he and Boyd were most alike – both quiet, both good students, both close to their families – although Boyd was on the lacrosse team, while Derek tended to avoid team sports.  Boyd was friendly – well, as friendly as he ever was to people who weren’t Derek, Isaac or Erica – with most of the guys on the team. Which gave Derek an idea.

‘Boyd, you haven’t overheard anyone planning to use the Candygrams to play a practical joke, have you?’ People tended to underestimate Boyd, often forgetting he was within listening distance while they chatted to their friends. Lucky for them, Boyd wasn’t the gossiping type.

Boyd shook his head. ‘Can’t say that I have, no. I mean, Stilinski and McCall are usually up to something – ‘ Derek saw Erica’s head snap up ‘– but it’s never really malicious, mostly just playing pranks on the Coach, or winding up Whittemore.  I can’t really picture either of them doing this sort of thing as a joke.’

Erica flashed him a smile and fluttered her eyelashes. ‘Boyd, honey, could you and Isaac run to the cafeteria and grab us something to eat before everything’s picked over?  Derek and I will meet you there ASAP.’

Derek met Boyd’s eyes over the table, confused by the sudden change of subject. Boyd merely blinked slowly and stood up, beckoning Isaac to accompany him.  Erica waited until both boys were out of earshot before turning to face Derek.

‘I know who sent this.’

Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

‘Okay, so, do you remember when we were kids and we had to do that poetry project, back in third grade? We had to copy out our favorite poems, one every month, and at the end of the year the teacher bound them all together into a big book?’

Derek does remember this, vaguely, because he’d had to wait _ages_ for his turn to take Shel Silverstein’s _Where the Sidewalk Ends_ out of the library, while Jackson Whittemore had had his own copy.  He nods at Erica to continue.

‘I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure this poem was in our big class book, that went into the display cases – and I think a lot of that stuff wound up in storage over here when they started renovating the elementary school.’ Erica, clearly excited at the potential lead, was already half out of her seat. ‘I’m going to go ask the librarian if she knows anything – you check Google and see if you can find out who wrote the poem.’

Derek nodded, and pulled out his phone as Erica stalked purposefully towards the circulation desk.

Ten minutes later, Derek had discovered the author of the poem – one Jack Prelutsky – as well as the book in which the poem appeared, a slim out-of-print volume published way back in 1986. Derek pulled up the cover image, and tapped the screen to make it bigger; he didn’t remember ever seeing the book before, but maybe Erica had.  Hearing footsteps approaching the table, he looked up to find Erica carrying a slightly yellowing spiral-bound book that he recognized even after nearly ten years.

Placing the book on the table, Erica flipped it open to the table of contents and ran her finger down the page until she found the right title. ‘ _It’s Valentine’s Day_ , by Jack Prelutsky?’

Derek nodded, passing her his phone, the screen still showing the book’s cover image.  A flash of recognition crossed her face, and her mouth curved into a small, secretive smile.  Pushing the bound anthology towards Derek, she settled back into her chair. ‘Page 63. Take a look; I have a hunch you’ll find your secret Candygram sender’s name there.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Let’s just say I have a strong feeling, based on available evidence.’ Erica answered, still wearing that infuriating smile.

Pulling the book closer, Derek took a deep breath, and turned carefully to page 63. He scanned the childish handwriting covering the page until he reached the very bottom, noting the differences in the final verse, then flipped the page to see who had carefully copied out the poem to be included in the book.

**_Stiles Stilinski_**

Derek felt his heart skip a beat. ‘Stilinski?’ Stiles had sent him a Candygram?  He looked at Erica, eyes wide. ‘What do I do?’

Erica regarded him seriously. ‘Okay, well, first things first. Do you like him?’

‘Yeah.’ Derek was slightly alarmed at how quickly his reply burst forth from his mouth.  Erica bit back a giggle. Derek shot her a dark look.

‘Okay, then. Do you want to let him know that?’

‘….maybe?’

‘You don’t have to, Derek.  He sent it anonymously; you can pretend the whole thing never happened, if you want. He’s giving you both an out.’

Derek sighed. ‘Yeah, I know. I just…Stilinski?’

‘Why is this so hard for you to believe?’

‘He’s…he’s hot!  And funny and smart.  And I’m, well, me.’

Erica leveled a stern look in his direction. ‘Yes, you are. Newsflash, Derek – you are also hot, and funny, and smart.’

‘You’re required to say that sort of stuff, you’re my best friend.’

‘I’m also required to be honest with you, and tell you when you’re being an idiot.  And I’m telling you now, you have at least as much to offer Stiles as he has to offer you, and if you wimp out on this opportunity, I will climb into your bedroom window and suffocate you in your sleep.’

Derek couldn’t help the snort that escaped at her threat. ‘You’ve been taking lessons on intimidation from Laura, I see.’

‘Cora, actually. But the point still stands.’

‘Okay. Okay, I can do this. I can do it. …What exactly am I doing?’

Erica reached into her bag and pulled out a Batman valentine, the same kind that Derek had given everyone in his third grade class. ‘Right. Here’s what we’re going to do.’

* * *

The bell signaling the end of classes for the day had barely finished ringing when Derek took up his post next to Erica’s locker, located conveniently just down the hall from Stiles’ locker.  He’d only been waiting there for a minute or two when Stiles skidded down the hall, shouting over his shoulder to Scott McCall; reaching his locker, Stiles made quick work of the combination and wrenched the door open. A red envelope slipped free from the stack of books inside and fluttered towards the floor; bending down quickly, Stiles snatched the envelope before it reached the ground.  Derek held his breath as he remembered what was inside.

_‘Here’s what we’re going to do. The reason I remembered this poem after all these years is because it was in a book that Stiles carried with him literally EVERYWHERE he went, all year long. You remember how his mom died the summer before? I think it reminded him of her. He was always reading it during breaks and I’m pretty sure every poem he turned in for our project was from that book. I only remember one of the other poems, because it was short and funny – we’re going to base your reply on that. If I’m wrong, and this isn’t from Stiles, then he’ll never know you thought it was – but if I’m right, and I usually am, this’ll send him a clear message that you’re picking up what he’d putting down.  The rest is up to you.’_

Derek closed his eyes briefly, crossing his fingers inside his jacket pockets. He opened them to see Stiles sliding one long finger underneath the flap of the tiny envelope, and, if he squinted, he could make out the signature on the back on the card.

 _ **Love,  
Frankenstein**_

Stiles’ face lit up, and Derek could hear the slight increase in his heartbeat.  He watched as Stiles pushed through the crowds to reach McCall, and although he couldn’t hear what was said, he definitely noticed both boys’ heads swing round to gaze directly at Derek.

 _Busted_ , he thought, starting to panic.  Before he could even think about making a quick getaway, though, Stiles was suddenly in front of him, right up in his personal space.

‘Batman, huh?’ Stiles’ voice was quiet, but Derek heard him perfectly.

“…yeah?’

‘So is that a yes, then, Frankenstein?’ Stiles was ever so slightly taller than Derek, a fact Derek hadn’t realized until that very moment.

‘… _yeah_.’

‘Good.’ Stiles didn’t hesitate, grabbing Derek by the shoulders and fitting his mouth to Derek’s.

Derek was vaguely aware of both of their names being shouted and a loud cat-call that could only have come from Erica, but he pushed those noises aside to focus on the warm lips covering his, the strong hands on his shoulders, and the flutter of eyelashes against his cheek. Slowly, he uncrossed his fingers, pulling his hands from his pockets to settle them at either side of Stiles’ waist, and as he began to lose himself in the sensation of kissing Stiles, Derek thought to himself:

_Candygrams are freaking AWESOME._

**Author's Note:**

> Both poems referenced in this story are by Jack Prelutsky, and first appeared in his 1986 kids anthology _It's Valentine's Day_. The original edition (with [the cover Erica recognises](http://www.amazon.com/Valentines-Prelutsky-published-Scholastic-Paperbacks/dp/B008TAYLW6/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1392473425&sr=1-2&keywords=it%27s+valentine%27s+day+jack+prelutsky)) is out of print, but the collection was reissued late last year and is available [here](http://www.amazon.com/Its-Valentines-Day-Read-Book/dp/0060537140/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1392473504&sr=1-1&keywords=it%27s+valentine%27s+day+jack+prelutsky). The original edition was gifted to my sister and I by our parents for Valentine's Day in 1987, when I was six and she was four, and holds a special place in our hearts.
> 
> I've changed the last verse of _It's Valentine's Day_ to suit the story's purposes - the last lines should read ' _and you just made my morning shine / you said you'd be my valentine_ '.
> 
> The Frankenstein reference comes from another poem in the same anthology:
> 
>  
> 
> _I only got one valentine_  
>  And that was signed  
> 'Love,  
> Frankenstein'
> 
>  **EDIT 14/2/15:** My husband, as I opened his card to me this morning:  
>  'I almost signed it 'Love, Frankenstein'. But then I thought, 'wait, Meggie's not a monster!'  
> [pause]  
> 'Well, you're MY monster.'
> 
> True love, that. <3


End file.
